


snapshots [yuri!!! on ice]

by clearlykero



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Muslim Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlykero/pseuds/clearlykero
Summary: YOI ficlet dumping grounds.





	1. in which Chris and Victor go shopping

**Author's Note:**

> mostly written on whims when someone gives me a good prompt or i have an overflowing feeling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the free paper for #ALLexpose, given out exclusively at Comic Fiesta 2016.

“Do you have to,” says Chris resignedly. He’s watching Victor hold up a monogrammed scarf that— it’s not ugly. Really, its only fault is that it’s monogrammed. But Chris hates anything that has even an iota of monogram in it. He’d probably burn all of Victor’s luggage if he could. Burn ' _that hideous Neverfull_ ' that Victor has to hide whenever Chris visits because Chris does not hold with that sort of basic accessorising.

“It’s cold in Japan recently,” Victor whines, cheerfully pretending to misunderstand.

“On your own head be it,” Chris says, “and don’t come crying to me when the wrong sort of magazines feature you.”

“At least I only have one vice, unlike everyone else.” They share a quiet moment of despair for the state of fashion in men’s figure skating. Because everyone looks perfect on the ice, but once they get off the ice you start to see why they should just stay on it. Except Victor, of course, he is impeccably dressed, and so is Chris (most of the time).

Victor puts the scarf down, looks out the window to where Yuuri is having an awkward conversation with Chris’ boyfriend (whose name he still does not know). “Your boyfriend’s dressed fine.”

“That,” Chris says, as he checks out his ass in the full-length mirror, “is because he’s not a figure skater, and also I dress him.”

“Yuuri never lets me dress him,” says Victor, pulling a face.

“You always want to put him in suits and put his hair back. I keep saying, just let the boy breathe a little, show off that delicious—”

“Yuuri looks good in suits!” Victor says very loudly over whatever inappropriate thing Chris had wanted to say. “He can show off his nice shoulders! Also you’re only two years older than him!” Chris huffs, motions to the attendant, who comes to retrieve the clothes Chris has picked out.

“At least he dresses better than J.J. Did you see that tacky Gucci thing he was wearing at his press conference last week?”

Victor magnanimously refrains from mentioning the Gucci belt Chris’ boyfriend is currently sporting. “I did. I’d rather tacky Gucci than Yurio’s closet, though.”

“Yuri is 16, he’s just going through a phase. An offensive phase, but still. A phase.”

Then the same thought occurs to both of them at once, and they glance at the distinct animal print bag among Victor’s shopping bags. It’s _very_ animal print.

“Lingerie is different,” they agree, and briskly drop the subject.


	2. in which Yurio and Otabek go shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from the free paper for #ALLexpose, given out exclusively at Comic Fiesta 2016.

Yuri is cute, sometimes, Otabek thinks. Only sometimes. Most of the time he is like an angry cat, or even more temperamental than most cats Otabek has met. He is very soft on the inside, but when Otabek accidentally treads on his tail, he becomes very prickly and difficult to handle. But Yuri is probably better with Otabek than he is with everyone except his grandfather, so Otabek doesn’t mind it.

Presently, he is being cute, and also somewhat confusing.

“This sweater is so cool. Right? I thought it’d suit you.” Yuri looks as excited as Otabek has ever seen him, and he is holding up the ugliest sweater Otabek has ever seen in his life. Otabek wonders if this is a trick question.

“Yeah,” he replies instead, “I guess I should try it on.” He knows he’s made the right choice when Yuri’s eyes light up like stars. (He likes being the one to make Yuri look like that.)

In the changing room, having put the sweater on, he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks maybe salvaging his dignity would have been a better option. But Yuri is happy, so Otabek holds his head up high and steps out of the changing room.

“Oh my _god_ , that’s so cool,” Yuri says, almost tripping when he runs to Otabek. He looks Otabek up and down, brushes a hand lightly over his shoulder.  “Let’s take a photo, I need to put this on Instagram.”

Otabek lets Yuri pull him close, fails to find an acceptable smile before Yuri has already snapped the photo and is typing a caption. Coach Yakov will probably give him another evil stare the next time they see each other at a competition, but it’s not like he’s a bad influence or anything. He just likes fast motorbikes, that’s all. Yakov is so overprotective.

Watching Yuri fiddle with his social media (that Otabek can never get the hang of; Instagram is as far as he can get, but Yuri uses things like _VK_ and _Twitter_ ), something occurs to Otabek.

“You want the same sweater?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, frowning at something on his phone. “But I don’t know if they have my size.”

“So we’ll match,” Otabek says, a slow smile starting on his face. Yuri drops his phone, then proceeds to curse him out in extremely colourful language.

“It’s not like I want to _match_ you, I just think the sweater is cool, okay?!”

“Okay,” Otabek says, taking Yuri’s hand and squeezing it, and Yuri’s blush makes any ugly sweater more than worth the while.


	3. 5 times Yurio tries his best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because Otabek is totally Muslim.

1.  
  
The time he finally notices Otabek isn't eating is the night before NHK when they're at a katsudon place somewhere in Nagoya. Pig-Yuuri drank one beer and went off somewhere, obviously followed by Victor, so it's just him and Otabek at the table.  
  
"Do you not like katsudon?" asks Yuri. He dreads the answer a little; katsudon is his second favourite food after pirozhki and his best-- his friend not liking katsudon would be upsetting.  
  
"I can't eat it," Otabek says, mildly, "since it's not halal. Because it's pork."  
  
Yuri takes a moment to process this, then: "Why didn't you just _say_ so?!" he demands, leaning forward as if he could hope to intimidate Otabek (he can try). "We could have gone someplace else, it's only that shitty pig who always wants--"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Is it, uh, do you not like it when I call Katsuki a pig." This would be extra upsetting, because pig-Yuuri will always be pig and katsudon. But if Otabek isn't cool with it he'll... see what he can do.  
  
"I don't mind at all, but I'm sure Victor does," says Otabek, his voice solemn. Yuri knows better, though; he drinks in the smile playing at the corner of Otabek's mouth and feels something unnameable in his chest.  
  
"Victor can suck it."

  
  
2.  
  
Otabek, despite himself, is currently a little bit sick of being religious. It would be so much easier to _not_  be, but he isn't that kind of person and he's glad of it. It's only--  
  
"It's not halal if it's slaughtered a different way than it's supposed to be," Otabek explains, trying to keep his voice down because there are a lot of people around them who really don't care whether or not their beef is halal. "I told you, it's easier for me to be vegetarian than look for meat I can eat."  
  
"But it's not--" Yuri looks down, blinks hard. There is an ache in the palm of Otabek's hand, and he clenches his fist. Lets go.  
  
"We can eat together another day, Yuri," he says, taking Yuri's hand gently. Yuri grips back; the ache in his palm eases.  
  
"If you have to eat salad I'll eat salad with you." Yuri looks like he is swallowing a very bitter pill. Otabek tries not to let his amusement show.  
  
"Good salad exists. I'll show you."  
  
And he does, and Yuri even eats most of his plate, and it's not so bad after all. His palm doesn't ache any more, but it's warm where they touched, keeps him warm even after they part and go their separate ways.

  
  
3.  
  
They share a hotel room sometimes, in the off season when they get invited to the same show. It happens fairly often, probably because their friendship is something of a Big Deal, not that Yuri has any idea why that is. He likes sharing a room with Otabek, except that he's beginning to realise that food isn't the only thing he has to worry about.  
  
"Don't," says Otabek, catching Yuri's arm as he goes to toss his nail clippings in the trash can. "Here." He hands over a different plastic bag. Yuri looks at him, looks at the plastic bag.  
  
"Is this an Islam thing again-- no, that's not," Yuri corrects himself when he sees the wince that Otabek can't quite hide, "I'm-- I mean, we never do this in Russia so I don't know, do I."  
  
"It's okay," Otabek says. Yuri dusts the nail clippings into the other plastic bag, and Otabek ties it up neatly. "Not a lot of people do it back home either. It's just, my family is kind of traditional."  
  
"So is it a--"  
  
"It's a Kazakh thing."

  
  
4.  
  
Yuri thinks fasting will be easy, and he has a rude awakening when he realises it isn't easy in the slightest.  
  
Every time someone stops to take a drink nearby, their bottles dripping with condensation, throats moving obscenely, he can't help staring. He never realised how high his liquid intake was until now, when his throat is parched and he can't soothe it.  
  
"You can drink, at least," Otabek says, watching him narrowly. Yuri knows Otabek would like him to not fast at all. But Yuri can't let his friend suffer alone, no matter what Otabek says about religion and enduring temptation and other things Yuri doesn't really remember.  
  
"If I'm doing it, I'm doing it _properly_ ," Yuri snaps, swinging his leg up into a stretch. "And don't start about how you've been doing this for years so you're used to it. I've heard that shit like five times by now."  
  
"Well, it's true," almost sulkily. "I'm just worried."  
  
"Go take a break," says Yuri, ignoring Otabek's last sentence. "You're old."  
  
"Only two years older than you," Otabek reminds him, patient as always, but he goes anyway.  
  
A little while later, when Yakov shows up to yell at him to stop being a stubborn fool, Yuri knows it's because Otabek has said something, and he wants to be annoyed but he can only find fondness in his body.  
  
He doesn't like it.  
  
Otabek comes to knock on his room door at night when it's time to break fast, but Yuri pulls the covers over his head and pretends he can't hear.

  
  
5.  
  
It is the Olympics, he is twenty-two, and Yuri knows all too well what he's feeling when Otabek destroys his free skate world record. His costume sticks to his back, sweat drying disgustingly, and the ceremony feels like it will never end.  
  
After, he cannot wait, and he pulls Otabek into the first empty room he can find, the flash of silver around his neck clinking against Otabek's gold.  
  
"Beka," he says, softly, urgently.  
  
They are pressed together in a way that they have never been before; Yuri bends his head closer to Otabek, and he sees the need like a mirror to his own. He wants to _take_ , and he knows if he pushes Otabek will let him.  
  
"You know I can't," Otabek whispers, like it's being wrenched out of him. "Not now."  
  
_When_ , Yuri wants to ask, but it doesn't really matter. It's been so long that another few years doesn't make that much difference in the long run, and he _knows_ Otabek will come to terms. He can be patient.  
  
Yuri presses his hand to Otabek's chest, the round metal disc against his palm. It's warm from their body heat. "Next time," he promises. He feels a shiver under his fingers.  
  
"Next time," Otabek agrees, and this time his voice is strong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yuuri, phichit, chris and victor go out to eat a parfait. nothing else happens. self-indulgent silliness

“Today, the group face their latest impossible challenge. Soon, a mountain of epic proportions will stand before them. One they can’t hope to climb. A true test of their nettle—”

“Mettle,” Yuuri says, from behind the hand shielding his face. “Are you on Snapchat?”

Phichit promptly hands his phone to Chris, who starts making come-hither faces at the camera. “I’m not,” says Phichit. Yuuri puts his hand down and gives him a look. After The Incident, they’d implemented a no Snapchat rule, and Phichit is quite flagrantly ignoring it. He can’t help it; nothing incriminating is happening and it should be _ totally fine. _

On the excursion that brought about the events thereafter referred to as just The Incident, Chris had brought along his long-suffering boyfriend Marcel and they’d all gone to a pub after the Cup of China. Food was eaten, too many drinks were had, Marcel discovered his inner exhibitionist, the Swiss Skating Union was exceedingly displeased by tabloid headlines comparing Marcel and Chris to horses (but mostly by the Marcel ones because Chris is in the tabloids every other day anyway), Marcel swore off drinks forever (or at least until the next competition). None of this was at all Phichit’s fault, except the close-up on Snapchat of Marcel’s crotch in nothing but red bikini briefs that probably belonged to Chris.

Look, when you see the opportunity, you take it, and Phichit is never one to miss a photo op. Anyway he’s been very good since then so he should be allowed some leeway now. Yuuri, however, clearly doesn’t agree. Phichit sulkily takes his phone back and puts it away  _ (temporarily) _ .

This time, they’re at an ice cream parlour in Bangkok that serves indecently sized sundae parfaits. Phichit has been dying to come here for months, and now that they’re in the off-season he can actually contribute to eating some of it. Chris, looking at the pictures in the menu, scoffs.

“They aren’t that big, I think Victor and I could even eat one by ourselves.” 

“You couldn’t even finish a steak between the two of you the last time we went out,” Phichit points out, because Victor isn’t there to call out Chris's blatant lie.

“What— that was _ Fashion Week,  _ do you know how hard it is to keep the kind of body I need for—”

“Oh, Victor!” Yuuri says, completely ignoring Chris. Victor, having arrived back from his trip to the counter, slides into the seat next to Yuuri. There is a strange look on his face.

“I ordered,” he says, and then he looks at Phichit. “Did you know?”

“Know what,” Yuuri asks.

“That these parfaits... are bigger than the triplets. _ Combined. _ ”

Phichit sparkles at him, a flash of teeth and a thumbs-up. “I’m going to get so many likes,” he says, sighing rapturously. He’s made peace with the fact that his Instagram floods with extra likes when he’s out with the happy couple and also Chris. The only thing that could add to his numbers is if JJ shows up and photobombs, because that's a whole other target audience. The important thing is: today he's going to do  _ numbers. _

"You totally knew," says Yuuri, accusingly. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"Yuuri," Phichit says, very seriously, "I don't tell you a lot of things. It's okay. You'll thank me when you gain ten thousand followers later."

"I don't see how parfaits can gain anyone so many followers," Chris objects. Phichit clicks his tongue and shakes his head pityingly.

"This is why _ I'm  _ the most popular skater on social media," he informs the other three, leaning back and doing his best JJ impression. It's very successful; Victor is giving him a squint-eyed look that is very unflattering on his face. "Just wait until the thing comes."

Ten minutes later, when the monstrosity masquerading as a dessert is finally deposited on their table, Yuuri takes one look at it and balks.

"I'm not even allowed katsudon unless it's a special occasion! You can't expect me to eat even a quarter of this!" he's gesticulating wildly, and Victor is avoiding it with the ease of long practice. Phichit is only half listening, trying to find a good angle with his camera and directing Chris to the correct placement of his phone torchlight. "Tell him, Victor!"

"Well, I like you when you have a soft stomach too," Victor says, thoughtfully. Yuuri drops his head onto the table.

Now Chris is eyeing the parfait like it's a personal challenge. He adores sweet things, Phichit remembers vaguely, he'd talked at length about it in one of the Vanity Fair articles. But there's a difference between delicate French confections and the abomination in front of them. Phichit snaps a final photo and hopes Chris fails spectacularly.

"Okay, guys," Phichit announces, taking up a spoon in one hand and his phone in the other, "I'm gonna start broadcasting now, get ready!"

"The rule, Phichit," Yuuri tries, even as his face goes resigned and he picks up his own spoon.

"I'm on Instagram Live." Phichit blinks at him, as if this should be obvious. "The rule is  _ no Snapchat. _ "

"We are going to regret this," says Yuuri.

Naturally, he's right.


End file.
